The Eumenes 



breeder. I was no novice in the art 

 of dividing an old pen-box into com- 

 partments in which I laid a bed of 

 sand and on this bed the larva, with her 

 provisions, delicately removed from the 

 maternal cell. Success was almost certain 

 at each attempt: I used to watch the larvae 

 at their meals, I saw my nurselings grow up 

 and spin their cocoons. Relying upon the 

 experience thus gained, I reckoned on suc- 

 cess in raising my Eumenes. 



The results, however, in no way answered 

 to my expectations. All my endeavours 

 failed; and the larva allowed itself to die 

 a piteous death without touching its 

 provisions. 



I ascribed my reverse to this, that and the 

 other cause: perhaps I had injured the frail 

 grub when demolishing the fortress; per- 

 haps a splinter of masonry bruised it when 

 I forced open the hard dome with my knife; 

 perhaps a too-sudden exposure to the sun 

 surprised it when I withdrew it from the 

 darkness of its cell; the open air again 

 might have dried up its moisture. I did 

 the best I could to remedy all these pro- 

 bable reasons of failure. I went to work 

 with every possible caution in breaking open 

 the home; I cast the shadow of my body 

 19 



